Don’t imagine that. "Gadzooks! I thought something was coming on; for when I looked at the weather-glass an hour ago, it had sunk lower than I ever remember it. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. Take it, I tell you. But recently he had asked God to pile it all on him; and God had added this, with a fresh portion for Ruth.
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